


house of cards

by Carth



Category: Secret History - Donna Tartt
Genre: Angst, F/M, I'm Bad At Tagging, I'm bad at translating, M/M, Sibling Incest, Slash, Translation, camilla and Francis are great, charles is an asshole but I love him, sorry - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-03
Updated: 2017-02-03
Packaged: 2018-09-21 20:46:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9565736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Carth/pseuds/Carth
Summary: Camilla buries them under stone arches of the Tartars.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [домик из карт](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7922578) by [Carth](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Carth/pseuds/Carth). 



  
They could live forever; godlike heroes from the pages of Henry's books, wearing all white (no one can see ugly spots of blood, they tried to erase them as fast as they could in the tiny bathroom of the flat on the third floor). 

Camilla rubs her hands (she's freezing, it's annoying), setting them on her warm, white wool coat; Charles is by her side, looking at his bare feet and laughing quietly. There are no people on the playground and it comforts Camilla; naked ankles are spurring in front of her eyes, green veins on a porcelain skin.

"We need to be closer to the sun, Milly. On a golden chariot", Charles laces their fingers in a lazy manner; Camilla is perfectly aware of their inability to reach even a green edge of a tree.

Camilla buries them under stone arches of the Tartars.

***

Charles brings a boy on their traditional bun-fight – white fingers on a black coat - an excellent mix of Jack The Ripper and a bloody student prince. Camilla doesn't even want to bother herself, but this young man starts reading "The Iliad"; the sunset is shining in his bright red hair, and it looks like he's surrounded with sacrificial fires. 

The world around them falls like a house of cards.

"And stupid us inside of it"

***

Francis buries his face inside of the blanket, shrugging like he's cold from time to time; this June is rainy, it presses on them with mate grey sky, a suffocating humidity and the lack of Irish whiskey. 

Francis feels like his whole body is covered with scars, scratches and ugly bruises, but Camilla is here and she's patting his head lightly and burring her nose in the crook of his neck; Charles is drinking somewhere as usual - Camilla and Francis are waiting for him to come home, like some old boring parents; their sins are covering the sky above them, there's no sun.

"Milly, our house of cards doesn't exist anymore", Francis is sick of this undying jealousy at the bottom of black oily pupils and his own stupidity; Francis is sick because once in his life he decided that there's a happily ever after for him – he's still into languishing eyes and delicately outlined mouth.

Camilla stays quiet; Camilla knows that even a bright boy Francis is drowning in Styx with them.

She thinks that people like them don't become heroes; they stay buried in the ashes of their childhood dreams for the eternity.

***

"You could've married me", Francis screws his eyes, rubbing his fingers nervously. Camilla doesn't recognize this habit of his; maybe they've been apart for too long and she can't remember everything completely (sometimes she realizes she hardly remembers the darkness of Henry's eyes or a bright blush on Bunny's cheeks.

Camilla is terrible with her life; she wears Charles's old sweaters and gets a boy-like haircut (her hair is not golden anymore). 

Francis has his lawyer deep down in his chest (Camilla knows that sometimes the image of Charles replaces him in Francis's dreams) and a picture of Priscilla in his wallet; Francis says that he would set it on fire without any hesitation; Camilla doesn't understand if he's talking about his wife or this picture.

"No, sweetheart. I'm still madly in love with Henry", Camilla feels insecure and vulnerable; it's like some kind of mantra in her head "tear it off and throw away, tear it off and throw away" – it doesn't work anyways. 

"And I do still love Charles, but you already know that", his laugh is the same; thin fingers covered with bloody red cherry juice.

The trees in Boston are old, there are no berries or flowers; empty shell.

Houses of cards are drowning permanently in Styx.

**Author's Note:**

> 1) sorry for my grammar or any other mistakes. English is not my native language but I tried my best. The original work is mine and is in Russian, so basically it's an English version  
> 2) this book is everything, srsl


End file.
